A Father's Love
by Julyuu
Summary: He's reminded to his report card that was only spared a glance, and he remembers his father stoic and emotionless face, and the unmoving stare he gave him when he presented the card to him.


Disclaimer: Do. Not. Own. Naruto. [but I wish I do,sobs.]

_A Father's Love_

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There's something about father-son relationship. They have this little circle of their own that no one seems able to get through. Not even the mother of the son.

While a mother showers him with caress by the cheek, serving a nice hot bowl of miso soup and gently place a freshly folded laundry on their bed, a father's pat on the head, or on the shoulder, an approving look, a curt nod, and an invisible smirk across their stern face seems more than enough for him.

Sakura can say the same. No matter how long she stretches her smile and pours Shousuke with encouraging compliments and how proud she is for him, the pout is still visible.

Yes, her mini Sasuke-alike can pull one hell of a pout.

Even though his similarities to his _otou-san_ are uncanny, and as much as he strives to be a 'typical Uchiha', which refers to the impassive expression, one-syllable vocabulary and acting too mature for his age, the raven-haired boy still has his childish features that makes him a child.

Glancing back at his report card, pride swells in her chest, and she can't help but run her fingers through his silky locks. Perfect attendance, perfect scores in all components, excellent manners and outstanding achievement in both practical and theoretical assessments, nothing she could ever hope other than this.

She knows that Sasuke never, ever, instill the sense of perfection in his son. Hell, he just wants him to be like other normal 7-year-old; playing around, make friends, be spoiled, and anything else fitting to his age.

But no, Shousuke has vowed to himself that an Uchiha is perfect, an Uchiha doesn't play around, and an Uchiha shouldn't be spoiled. He's hard on himself, even when both of his parents never did so.

And now, he's fiddling with the hem of his dark grey shirt, the pout still intact, and Sakura couldn't miss the slight tremble in his hands and how he anxiously glances at the door the passing hour.

Sasuke will be home any minute now, and Shousuke is getting restless. Sakura has tried everything she can to divert his attention, but he brushes it off with a simple, _"I'm fine, kaa-san," _and continue staring at the door.

The approaching chakra didn't go unnoticed by both of them, and Sakura once again find herself smiling when she sees Shousuke's eyes gleam with excitement. Another trait he discovered early was his strong sense. When he first jumped out of his study desk and flew to the door giddily, Sakura gave him an unsure look and he smiled his big Uchiha grin and _"Tou-san here!"_ and when it was really Sasuke who went through the door fifteen minutes later, the Uchiha matriarch couldn't help but ponder on how amazing can her child be.

The slight creak of the gate indicates his arrival, and Sakura wipes her hand clean and smooth down her pastel dress, because as much as Shousuke is eager to see his daddy, she's the same to see her hubby.

His low and husky, "Tadaima," followed by the silent click of the door is replied with her soft "Okaeri, Sasuke-kun," because even after 7 years of marriage, she's still the same old 12-year-old girl longing after him. His deep, drowning onyx orbs meet her crystal clear emerald ones. Jolts of electricity run through both of their veins, and all sorts of feelings start rummaging from inside.

She strides towards him, who's still standing at the threshold of their house, and smiles at him, her eyes shining. He gazes at her; his right hand slowly touches her cheek, and caresses her face. They stare at each other, no words exchanged.

His eyes droop low to her lower abdomen, and he gently places his left hand on her swollen belly, a ghost of smile dusting his face. But as soon as it comes, it disappears.

Their tender moment is interrupted by the presence of the eldest heir of the Uchiha clan who bows earnestly to the towering figure clad in full jounin vest and a katana resting at his back.

"Tou-san," he starts, head still bowed and adds his "Okaeri," to it.

The Uchiha patriarch eyes soften at the sight before him. He steps away from his wife after kissing her lightly on the cheek, earning him a flushed-face Sakura that brings his playful smirk to his face.

Discarding his nin-boots and his black fingerless gloves, he makes his way towards the raven-haired boy and places a hand on his head.

"Hn. I'm home, Shou."

Slowly, Shousuke raises his head and looks up at his father (considering his father's 6'4'' figure) and the tiniest smile stretches across his face, the one that Sakura convinced everyone he got from Sasuke, and slowly, and shyly, hands him his report card.

He takes it, eyeing his son for a moment before glancing at his beautiful, beautiful wife and catches her smiling fondly at both of them, and he can't help but letting his lips tugged a little at a corner.

He unstraps his katana and put it away, before settling into his chair, the single big leather chair near the fireplace, and gestures for his little boy to sit on the arm rest, the usual and the favourite place of the seven-year old.

He grins, and pads quickly towards him, anxious over his father's reaction.

Sasuke raises his head, and gives a pointed look to his wife, the one she knows all too well, and she smiles her dazzling smile before taking her place at the unoccupied arm rest, settling a gentle touch on her husband's shoulder, her eyes glistening with happiness.

The dark-haired man raises his eyebrow a little, before opening the card, watching his son's eyes widen from the corner of his eyes, and then shifting his gaze to the card.

What lies upon him nearly makes him lose his cool.

The sight is familiar, considering he used to have the same looking report card, with almost the same content as this one, except for the "Teamwork: Excellent" part, but others are awfully similar.

He's reminded to his report card that was only spared a glance, and he remembers his father stoic and emotionless face, and the unmoving stare he gave him when he presented the card to him.

His heart clenches at the memory, and his eyes burn with unshed tears, but the warm squeeze on his shoulder pulls him out of the painful sepia-coloured image projectile. He rests his hand on the reassuring hand of his wife, and gently settles the report card back on the table.

He can feel the nervousness of the seven-year old, and he decides that it has come to this; the part that will forever be embedded to the back of his brain, a part that will probably hunt him, or bring a tiny, tiny smile on his face.

Sasuke decides for the latter.

He turns towards Shousuke, his eyes full with nothing but warmth and fondness, giving off the look he only spared for a select few, one including the pink haired woman behind him, and another one for the boy he's currently facing.

His face remains impassive, but for these two, they know better.

He smirks, his infamous smirk, and places a hand on the boy's head, his onyx orbs bore into the same orbs.

He gets the feeling of him staring into himself, and he's sure as hell doesn't want the boy in front of him to sport the same look he wore once upon a similar time.

So he ruffles his hair, a half smile, half grin makes its way on his face, and he stares lovingly at his son.

"That's my son," he says proudly, and as he brings the now-grinning child into his arms, he adds, "I'm so proud of you," and tightens his hold on him.

Sakura couldn't help but let a tear slips on her cheek, and she grins back at her son, her heart swelling with love and warmth, and brushes Shousuke's bangs away from his face.

As for the little one, he couldn't feel anything but giddy and satisfaction, as he longs for his father's approval more than anything in this world. It's not like he doesn't appreciate his mother's, but there's something unspoken about getting his father's.

And his father's words really took a whole lot from his chest.

He relaxes, content with his father's warmth and his mother's soothing fingers on his scalp, and soon he finds himself drifting off to sleep.

And he dreams, of his father's "I'm so proud of you," and the proud smile on his face, his hands ruffling the hair on his head, and the smirk he gave him when he first mastered the Katon: Gokakyuu no Jutsu, and "One day it'll be yours," when he eyed the Kusanagi with awe, and the super rare surprised expression of his father when he managed to make a little spark on his left hand.

He smiles contently in his sleep, barely catching his father low whisper that he often hears at the verge of deep sleep, every night, but he figures the "Tou-chan" and "loves" and "you" part just enough, and sometimes he manages to catch the "so much" part too.

And he'll reply his usual reply, sleepily, but clear enough for Sasuke to catch.

"I love you too, _Tou-chan_."

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.

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"Ne, Sasuke-kun, I want that whisper too."

"Give me mine first."

"Eh, no fair, you copied me!"

"Hn."

"Sasuke-kun!"

"Hn."

"Come on! I want that whisper too! I want to hear it before I sleep!"

"Who says you're going to sleep?"

"Well, we are right? It's late and Shou-chan—oh. _Oh_."

"…"

"Kyaa! Sasuke-kun! I—mphhhh!"

"Hn. You're too loud."

"But, but—mphhh. Hey! I wasn't—mphhh!"

"…"

"Sa—Sasuke-kun! I—I, Sasuke-kun!"

"Sakura."

"Ye—Yes, Sasuke-kun?"

"I love you."

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"That's cheap."

"Hn."

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_Soooo, how is it? Gah , I failed at family-type of fic, sobs. But reviews are welcomed though! And thank you for making time to read this crappy fic of mine! Is it just me or Daddy! Sasuke is kinda hot? gyaaa ~_


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